


in constant orbit

by wanderlast



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mostly Canon Compliant, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 09:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17077763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlast/pseuds/wanderlast
Summary: The smile that greets him as he crawls through her window, her utter determination to do the right thing in the face of the utter madness of this town, even just the simple act of her standing in front of him, eyes wide and expectant, is making him strongly reconsider his stance on planetary collisions and the world ending. It shouldn’t, really, everything he’s ever learned--which is really just Deep Impact, Armageddon and bits of Melancholia--has told him this is all a very bad idea.He does it anyway.---Jughead Jones finds himself on a collision course.





	in constant orbit

This is how the universe is supposed to operate.

  
Betty Cooper and Archie Andrews will slowly, but surely, draw together: the gravitational pull of white picket fences and 2.5 children too strong for even _Archie_ to miss eventually. They will settle themselves neatly into their roles as _the_ couple of Riverdale High. There will be nominations for both homecoming and prom royalty, matching Most Likely To’s in the senior yearbook, a stirring dedication in the valedictorian speech to cap it all off--

  
And he, he will be a note in the margins. On the edges, always in orbit of this Great Love Story. A side character--maybe a foil to the hero, good for a wisecrack and a monologue or two.

  
He always _did_ like Mercutio.

 

***

 

It’s not that he always wanted to be on the sidelines, though. When he was younger he even resented it: the feeling that he was trespassing, that he didn’t quite belong in this portrait of quintessential middle class Americana standing next to the boy and girl next door. That he was somehow the dark blemish on this otherwise picturesque landscape of strawberry reds and straw yellows.  
  
  
However, Jughead's adaptable--even if only reluctantly--and has since more than come to terms with his status as an outsider. He’s even come to enjoy it a bit, if he’s being truly honest. There’s a certain freedom, a certain level of control you have over the story by simply being in the room, but only as a member of the audience. There's power in narrating.

  
There’s _safety_.

  
After all, you can’t lose anything more if you don’t give anything away, right? 

  
It’s the night of the semi-formal and he thought he’d be safe here: in a booth at Pop’s, far away from any of the concerns of corsages or even curfew. He knows they’re there at the dance right now, arms probably hovering cautiously around each others waist and neck. He knows that they’re attending this dance with the new girl, Veronica. He knows that this is as good a time as any for their story to start: life and death, love and loss -- the kind of thematic contrast the universe can’t resist.

  
And he knows that absolutely none of this involves him. After all, it’s not like they had told him any of this. He hasn’t exactly been on small talk terms with Archie and Betty was rather preoccupied with, well, _everything_ to spare more than a cursory “I’m back! : )” text. However, he _does_ know she helped plan the entire thing and Archie’s not one to miss a chance to get close to pretty girls, so, really, it’d be more of a surprise for this all _not_ to happen. It’d be just as surprising for them to not attend, really, as for him _to_ attend.

  
(He wonders, just a little, if they’d have asked him to show up if they had seen him--if they had chosen to speak with him.)

  
So he only _slightly_ resents his freedom. Sure, he’s been set adrift from his two closest friends near simultaneously by a mixture of hormones and overambitious scheduling, but it’s not like he doesn’t have his own things to do--his own life to lead. The jingle about being a _big kid now_ plays in his head with some measure of irony and he snorts derisively at himself. Pop’s just refilled his coffee and his laptop fully charged. He really shouldn’t be looking for more from his life at this moment in time.

 

***

 

He’s in a staring match with his word processor now--fifth draft of the first and only chapter of his novel perilously toeing the fine line between completion and the recycle bin--when the bell rings and Jughead realizes that not even a screaming match for the ages, spanning several days and mediums, could tear him out of their orbit. 

  
Archie Andrews is the kind of person who makes so many mistakes, but also feels so genuinely repentant over them all, that Jughead finds it near impossible to stay mad at him for very long. This is why when Archie asks to sit, he lets him sit down with no complaints. This is why when Archie starts talking to him at midnight in Pop's almost as if nothing had changed that summer, he plays along.

  
This is why when Archie’s laments losing his best friend _tonight_ and not some other night in July, it only stings a little instead of a lot.

  
Jughead and Archie have fought before: literal wrestling and screaming and cold war silences like the one they were involved in just minutes before this moment. They've fought and made-up and lived to fight another day. Archie and Betty, on the other hand--well that’s a different story. They’ve argued certainly, disagreed on more things than Jughead and Archie ever have at this point, but he can’t say that he’s ever seen her even on the brink of giving up on anyone, let alone _Archie_.

  
If Jughead’s certain of anything--and he’s stubbornly certain of _many_ things--whatever Archie did, Betty will still forgive him. Betty will forgive him and, maybe not at this dance, but the next or the one after: Archie will finally notice Betty. Cue the music, fireworks, a tearful embrace, a white wedding-- that’s how this story’s _supposed_ to go, anyway.

  
“If you mean Betty, whatever happened, just talk to her. You know, it’d go a long way.”

  
He can see the gears turning in Archie’s head, his eyebrows knitting together in concentration.

  
He could leave him on that note. He knows that Archie now has a pretty good idea of what he needs to do and is probably simply summoning up the willpower to do so. It’s going to be a hard conversation--even harder than the one they’re having now, but what he said _was_ true and between Archie’s earnestness and Betty’s pre-existing affection for him Jughead has no doubts that this would be smoothed over in no time.

  
He _could_ leave him on that note--but Jughead’s young and _proud_ and his love for words has always extended to a love for having the last word.

  
So he takes a parting shot.

  
“Would’ve gone a long way with _me_.”

 

***

 

She’s staring out the window, lips drawn tight when he enters Pop’s. There’s a tension to her at that moment, hands balled into fists, as if all her nervous energy is just barely contained underneath a placid, perfectly groomed Cooper surface. He doesn’t give himself any points for guessing the cause, having rather easily put two and two together. He had his suspicions already from his conversation with Archie, but word travels fast in Riverdale High--even _with_ Kevin Keller staying relatively silent out of respect for Betty’s feelings.

  
He slides into the booth and eyeing a completely untouched milkshake and fries combo, steals 1, 2, 3 bites before finally feeling guilty enough to interrupt.

  
“So you guys have hit a bump in the road, it’s not a big deal.”

  
She startles slightly, turning to face him finally as she snorts at the thought.

  
“Not a big deal?”

  
“You guys are a regular--”

  
His brain quickly catalogs famous couples, but nothing seems to stick:

  
Romeo & Juliet? Tristan & Iseult?

_  
Bonnie & Clyde? _

  
There’s something so utterly inevitable about them that it’s almost as if the universe never decided to write their love story in the first place. It’s easy to see why, he thinks: there’s no dramatic tension. No rival families, no dark secrets to be kept--really there’s nothing keeping them apart besides a particularly thick skull and the two wandering eyes within it.

  
He’s always seen it himself as a question of _when_ , not how or why. And who would know better than him--their utterly cliche third wheel of a childhood friend? So he settles.

  
“A regular Betty and Archie.”

  
Her eyebrow quirks upwards.  
 

“High standards.”  
 

“I mean that you guys are childhood friends who have basically known each other since you were in diapers and you’re _still_ willing to talk to each other to this day. That means something. I mean, hey, things could be worse. You guys could be--”

   
He swallows the word _dead_ back, replacing it quickly with the first things that come to mind.

   
“--in fair Verona or _cursed_ or something.”

   
She laughs at that as he shrugs, “Not to take those options away from you guys. Just that I’m sure both of you will figure it out somehow.”

   
She places her hand lightly on his to stop him from taking it any further, shaking her head.

   
“Thanks Juggie. I really don’t think it’ll work out that way though. Plus, haven’t _we_ known each other for just as long?”

She smiles softly at him in a mixture of resignation and relief, her shoulders relaxing just a little, and in that moment, his universe tilts ever so slightly out of alignment. In the future, he’d probably be able to pinpoint this exact moment as _the_ moment: when he was sent tumbling from his chosen path in life as an eternal observer into something a bit _more_ , when he would find himself desperately wanting to be important in this story of lucky red-headed boys and the girls who love them.

  
But for now, he simply swallows a little harder than normal and does as he has always done before. He leans in and whispers.

  
“For what it's worth, I don't want you guys to get cursed either. That shit spreads _fast_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd. I have no idea how much time each of the episodes in season one are supposed to cover (and I'm not sure the show particularly cares either), but I guess you could kinda see this as a collection of expanded and 'missing' scenes? It probably doesn't help that I've only just started watching the first season.
> 
> That being said, there's a ton of random references in this -- gotta catch 'em all. Thanks for reading!


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